Scraped Knees
by RedWheeler
Summary: Brothers, you don't always understand them. Tyson and Hiro centered Oneshot.


**Note**: Something I came up with when I was thinking about how Tyson seemed to value his brother a little more than Hiro seemed to. Although, now I can't say I quite feel the same…. I also just wanted to contribute to the family category. Anyways, as always, reviews and opinions are welcomed and appreciated. I'd love to know what you guys think.

Thanks goes out to my brother for editing yet again.

**Summary**: Brothers, you don't always understand them.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Beyblade.

Scraped Knees

"Ahh! Ow! Help…."

He used to hear howling all the time, pure blood curdling screams that he swore echoed throughout the whole city. And they really weren't a big deal, he would heave a sigh and stand up from his homework as if he was taking a break and step outside for a moment.

Sometimes he would lean against the door frame, his arm crossed as he pulled a face. Others he would have his hands shoved in his pockets, acting like he could be anywhere else in the world. And he probably felt that way.

Today had been a pockets day, his expression nonchalant as he looked around the yard. His gaze grew stern when they found the source of all the screaming, a small boy clutching his leg as he rocked somewhat on the ground, nursing an injury.

"Were you running on the rocks again?" He frowned, jumping from the veranda to the grass on his way to the child.

"No."

"Tyson…."

"… Maybe…," the boy said defeated, his voice faint. He pressed his lips against the knee his hand was covering while he adverted the older boy's knowing eyes. "Sorry…."

It's muffled, but sincere.

"Doesn't matter."

The small boy's shoulder slumped and began to shake as he was silent for a moment. "But… that's not fair… I really mean it. I'm sorry…."

"Sorry doesn't fix things."

"Yeah it does!" the younger boy shouted back, defiance was in his voice as he pulled a childish scowl. "Grandpa says it does, are you calling him a liar?"

"No," he replied, annoyance laced within his words, "You don't understand. It's polite, it's a nice thing to say… but it doesn't fix things. What's done is done; you can't just take it back."

"That's not what Grandpa says!"

"Grandpa doesn't know everything."

He watched as the boy's jaw dropped at the statement, pure disbelief sparked in his eyes. Clutching his knee, the navy haired toddler began to furiously shake his head in disagreement.

Rolling his eyes, the older boy scoffed, "You see? This is why you don't understand, you're too young. Immaturity like this is going to stand in your way while you grow up."

"Hiro, Grandpa says…."

"This isn't about Grandpa!"

Jumping, the smaller boy trembled at his brother's lack of temper control. His shoulders sulked further as his eyes brimmed with tears, and his small fingers tightened, gripping the tender skin.

Sighing, the preteen held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index finger. He's aware he may seem a tad bit harsh on the boy, but someone had to teach him.

"Apologizing just lets people know that you feel bad about something that happened, it doesn't repair the damage and it doesn't make everything right. Your knee still hurts after all, right?"

The navy haired boy is silent as he remained on the ground. His attention glared into the distance, evading Hiro's infamous stare.

"Well?" the eldest implored.

"You're mean…."

"Why, because I don't see everything from your view? That doesn't make me mean Tyson, that makes me opinionative. That means I have a brain, do you understand?"

His head whipped to look up at his brother, sticking out his tongue menacingly as he continued to glare.

"If you expect everyone to do stuff your way you're going to find yourself very lonely," the older boy frowned, "You push people away when you only think of yourself, it's called being selfish."

"I know what it is!"

"You obviously don't know what it means…."

Seeing that this argument was going nowhere, Tyson focused his attention back on the injury. "Can you just help me?"

If it was possible, Hiro's frown creased further. "How do you expect to get anywhere in life if you can't help yourself?"

"_Please_! It hurts… a lot."

"You were perfectly content a moment ago."

"I'm bleeding."

"Get a band aid, you'll be fine."

The five year old looked up at him with wide eyes; his hands in his pockets with a look of nonchalance. It seemed as if it didn't even bother him that Tyson had hurt himself.

"I… don't think I can walk…."

"Really?" Hiro feinted interest, "Maybe I should help you then, you might seriously be hurt. We'll stop by the hospital, it could be a broken bone, you'll have to stop playing for a while and hang around Grandpa…."

"Actually… it doesn't hurt that much…. I'm fine, just a little blood…."

He smirked. "Great."

"It _is_ soar though…."

"Then you might want to take care of that, Tyson. Just make sure to clean the wound before you cover it up."

"I… don't know how. Can't you help me?"

Hiro fixed the baseball cap that sat upon his head; his gaze studied the small boy as he appeared helpless on the ground. "Afraid not, now hurry up and go."

Beginning to stand up, Tyson winced at the pressure focused on his torn skin. Clutching it in mild pain, although excruciating for a child, he pouted, "You're not my friend anymore…."

Snorting, the older boy shook his head. "I was never your friend, I'm your brother."

Grumbling, he began to limp away.

"You do know why I'm doing this, don't you?"

He paused, giving his older sibling a sideways glance. Having a few ideas of cruel and bothersome intentions, he chose to keep his mouth shut. The small boy shrugged lightly.

"I'm not always going to be…."

"Where are you going?" he interrupted quickly, his eyes ridden with sudden panic.

"Away, I don't know. One day I may just go and visit some people," Hiro shrugged, although people was a broad term for him and he realized Tyson knew that too.

"Daddy, or… Mommy…?"

He didn't answer. "You don't understand the point. Tyson, you're not always going to have others to rely on. Sometimes… all you really have is yourself."

"Not if you have friends," the boy continued to disagree, "They stick by your side through _everything_."

"Friends… they… well, sometimes people need to do stuff for themselves. No matter who someone is to you, they can't hold you up forever. One day it might just be you, what are you going to do then?"

Shifting uncomfortably as he bent forward holding his knee, Tyson merely stared for a moment. "So who's being selfish, me or my friends?" he pondered, quirking his head to the side.

He sighed loudly, shaking his head once again. "Maybe you're too young…."

"Maybe you're just wrong?"

"Maybe…," he humoured the boy, traces of a smile tugging at his lips.

Tyson gave him a final pleading look, "_Please_ help me, just this one last time. I'll be your best friend."

Hiro shook his head.

Groaning, the small navy haired boy turned and began to limp his way back to the dojo. "Figures…," he muttered under his breath, wincing every time his knee bent.

He turned, crossing the lawn back to the veranda like he usually does. He has homework after all, and blood curdling screams are the norm. Anyone can fall, Hiro just wanted to make sure that he could pick himself back up. Over his shoulder, he shouted, "You'll thank me one day!"

One day he might.


End file.
